


Bulldog

by Elevensins



Series: The Porn Challenges [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-07 11:09:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1896813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elevensins/pseuds/Elevensins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha never really gives up when she's decided she wants something, or someone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bulldog

“There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness but of power. They are messengers of overwhelming grief and of unspeakable love.” -Washington Irving

The game began shortly after their escape from the religious compound. They were in a cab, heading for the airport. She looked over at him and reached out to touch his forearm.

"Steve?" she asked.

He glanced in her direction. “Yes?”

"Can I ask you a serious question?" Her head canted to the side, green eyes regarding him curiously. 

"Sure.”

"How did you know where to even touch me?"

Steve stared at her for a long moment, wondering if he heard her right. Of course he had. Natasha was never one to mince words. A brief glance at the rear view mirror and he could see the cabbie glancing back at them. Was that a grin on his face?

Steve looked back at her, brows knitting. Her expression was expectant. “Tony left the Joy of Sex in my room one day. It was very informative.”

She nodded, satisfied. “Oh, ok.”

It was unlike Natasha to accept a snappy answer from him without her own comments. Steve exhaled a quiet sigh and leaned back in his seat. He knew he’d hear about it again. Natasha was a bulldog. When she had her jaws on something, she didn’t let go until she exhausted it.

They were in the air when she asked again. Steve took the middle seat, long legs cramped as whoever sat in front of him had their chair reclined. She stared out the window as the plane ascended into the sky, the city below vanishing behind white clouds as they reached proper altitude. 

“Hey Steve, can I ask a serious question?”

“Sure.”

“How did you know where to touch me?”

Steve stared up at the panel above them, giving himself a moment to consider an answer. “The internet is for porn.”

She laughed. “Ok.” And said nothing more about it for the rest of the trip.

They were in another abandoned Hydra facility when she asked him a third time.

“Hey Steve, can I ask you a serious question?”

He was opening a door to an adjacent corridor. “Not if it’s about sex again, no.”

She ignored him. “How did you know where to touch me?”

“Clint got really drunk one night, it was Tony’s turn to ask the question for Truth or Dare.”

She fixed a hand on her hip, glowering at him. “Are you ever going to give me a serious answer?”

“I was quite serious, there.”

She smirked. “The likelihood of you playing truth or dare when Tony is involved is minimal. Also Clint knows I’d murder him in his sleep.”

He just smiled at her cryptically and disappeared down the corridor. 

There was nothing to find, nothing but more clues that lead them to another location. Another city, another car ride in another direction. Steve fell into a brooding silence that was very unlike him. So Natasha didn't ask him any questions that were not pertinent to the mission. Eventually it was late enough that she insisted on a place to crash for the night. It was a quaint, older hotel boasting a museum on the first floor and old fashioned rooms with brass keys instead of electronic locks and key cards. This one had two beds, in separate rooms even. Natasha paid in cash and Steve was happy at the prospect of getting a little shut eye for a few hours. 

Natasha dropped her bag on the turn of the century settee underneath a wide window that overlooked a quaint, small town Main Street lit only by street lamps at that hour. She opened it to grab her night clothes, claiming the other room without even asking. She stood on her toes and kissed Steve's cheek. “Sleep well.” Then she vanished into the adjacent room and closed the door behind her. She could have locked it, the room had its own particular key, oddly enough. But Steve never heard her turn the lock.

There would be no quick lapse into sleep that night. Not when every time he closed his eyes he imagined the soft skin of her breasts, the warmth of her pulse beneath his lips and the sound of her breathing in his ear. He tossed and turned for awhile, and eventually drifted off just after the hotel's huge grandfather clock in the lobby chimed the hour, one in the morning.

He woke with a stream of sunlight over his eyes, the curtain parted just enough to let the light in. Squinting, he sat up and glanced at the clock. Seven in the morning, unusual to sleep in even that late. He glanced toward Natasha’s door, which was still shut, and heard nothing to indicate she was awake. 

The bathroom had a claw footed tub and a shower had been affixed to it at some point. The sink had antique knobs for the hot and cold water. He pulled the curtain closed and took his time under the spray of hot water. There was so much to think about. Bucky's trail had gone cold again, they had only a scrap of information from the abandoned bunker and if that didn't pan out, they might as well consider throwing in the towel. He was so busy with his thoughts, he didn't notice the curtain opening toward the back of the tub, just as he turned off the water. 

And turned to find Natasha standing behind him, just as naked as he was. She raised a brow at him, "You didn't steal all the hot water, did you?"

Steve couldn't find words to reply with, just staring at her face and not daring to let his gaze draw downward. She had no such compunctions, definitely staring at his crotch with a suitably impressed expression. "Damn, Rogers. How have you managed to keep the ladies at bay?"

"Natasha..."

“Hey,” she said softly with a lilting smile on her face. She approached him to wrap her arms around his neck, he could feel her fingers thread together at the base of his skull. “So, serious question time again.”

“Yeah?” He felt tongue tied and stupid and anything more he tried to say would just make things even more awkward. Her body was warm and soft and melted against his as his arms encircled her waist. 

“How did you know where to touch me?” Her lips were not even an inch away from his.

“Would you like me to do it again?”

She grinned, then bit her lip. “I thought you’d never ask.”

He closed the space between them and kissed her. This time, there is no awkward nervousness in the way his mouth claimed hers. No startled pause because she surprised him again. 

She broke the kiss and shook her head, "Not in here. Shower sex is fun, but sometimes a girl just wants to wash her hair."

They climbed out of the tub and Steve dried himself off briefly while Natasha leaned against the door, watching him with obvious appreciation. He followed her back to his bed and kept his promise there, stretching out beside her as his fingers found that most intimate of places, the one he really had read about in some sort of how-to sex book Tony left in his room as a joke. If he knew how much Steve had actually learned from it, he probably would have laughed. Natasha moaned softly and her hips moved as if of their own accord. She only adjusted his hand once, to show her how she really wanted him to touch her and he watched her face contort, heard her breath hitch in her throat as her body shuddered under the deft fingers that worked around her clit.

She gestured to the dresser. "Condom." Which she'd left sitting there in its packaging. Steve smirked as he reached for it, tearing it open carefully. There had been no condom sitting there when he got up to get a shower. Natasha knew exactly what she wanted. Putting it on was a quick study in clumsiness. Finally Natasha had to roll over and help him. "Rogers, you are the biggest dork, I swear."

“Natasha, I haven’t--”

She cut him off with a finger pressed to his lips. “I know. I'm sorry, I shouldn't laugh. I know you don’t do this lightly, you don’t do this with anyone you haven’t already developed a deeper bond with.”

“Been studying me, have you?”

She shrugged, that little knowing smile on her lips as she flopped back on the bed, tucking a pillow behind her head. “Steve, we don’t have to do this. I am very sexually attracted to you. But, I am not the sort of woman who has long term monogamous relationships. Why do you think I keep trying to get you to ask that nurse out? Or anyone, really. I can’t give you what you need, what you deserve.”

Steve inhaled deeply and exhaled in a sigh. Stretching out, he propped himself on an elbow at her side. “Natasha, I don’t care what happened to you in the Red Room.”

Green eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, jaw falling slack enough for her lips to part as she stared at him. “How did you-- when…”

“Fury knew more about you than you realize. He felt I should have full disclosure before we teamed up on anything. I read your file. Files, that is. The one SHIELD had on record. And the secret one. The one only Fury kept partitioned from everything, only he had access to it. He destroyed when the organization was compromised.”

He reached for her hand, threading their fingers together atop her abdomen. “You see, Natasha, you have a lot of red in your ledger. But like Bucky, a lot of it isn’t even your fault, they used you the same way they used him. Ah, hush, don’t interrupt me.”

She was about to protest, he could see it in the way her lips trembled, her brows furrowed. But when he shushed her, she clamped her mouth closed, lips forming a thin, tight line. 

He continued before she changed her mind, “I knew who you were from day one, Natasha. I chose to work with you because Fury assured me you were turning over a new leaf. I’ve seen nothing to indicate otherwise. You had a dozen chances to betray me at some point. You never took them. When I told you I trusted you with my life, I meant it.”

She stared at him silently, and for a moment he wondered if he had said too much. These were deeply held secrets of hers and he had known them all along. Her hand gripped his tightly. 

Then suddenly she surged forward, her mouth claiming his, her tongue demanding he part his lips and let her inside. She rolled them both and had him on his back in a heartbeat, straddling him there. 

When she finally had to break the kiss for both of them to breathe, he saw it. The faint trail of dampness from the corner of her eye, down her cheek, disappearing at the curve of her chin. 

"God damn you, Rogers," she said in a hoarse whisper. "I don't want to love you. I don't want to love anyone."

"I know," he said softly, "It's the only thing you're really afraid of."

She kissed him again, just to shut him up. His hand lifted to tangle fingers in all her fine red hair, cradling the back of her head in his palm. She ground her body down against his, reawakening his arousal. All resistance between them was gone now and she reached between them, testing to make sure the condom was still on properly before guiding him to her entrance. 

He had thought about it a number of times, what it was like to actually have sex with someone. But nothing his imagination could conjure lived up to the real thing. Natasha was warm, wet and wonderfully tight. She took him in slowly until she was fully seated in his lap and he filled her completely. His hands moved to rest on her hips, kneading her ass, encouraging her to move with him.

In the beginning, she moved slowly, eyes closing as she pushed herself up, prying one of his hands loose from her hip to thread their fingers together against her thigh. Steve gazed up at her in the morning light, how her skin glistened faintly, the rise and fall of her chest. Her lips parted to draw in deeper breaths. He memorized the negative space at the curve of her throat, between her arm and her waist, fingers already unconsciously tracing it against the back of her hip with his finger. 

Her eyes opened slowly, watching him gaze up at her. He captured that in his mind like a snapshot, fingers already aching to put the memory to paper. Then she leaned over him to kiss him again and he found himself thrusting into her faster, harder, any thoughts of artwork banished in the need of the moment. 

“Steve…” she whispered, “Touch me again.”

His hand moved between them, finding that little spot he actually had read about in one of the books Tony liked to leave in his room as a joke. She rewarded him with a soft moan, lifting her head to draw in a shallow breath. He brought her back down again to nip at her throat. 

He felt her shudder abruptly, gasping and then moaning low, murmuring, “Oh god, oh god, oh god…” Her body clenched around him and that was more than enough to bring him to his own climax, grabbing her hips and pulling her down hard as he exploded inside of her. 

She didn't collapse on top of him, merely settled in the aftermath, puffing her breath to get rid of errant strands of hair in her mouth. Steve reached up to tenderly brush them away, tucking them behind her ear so he could see the easy smile on her face

“First time, hmm? Lasted longer than I thought you would.”

He heaved a sigh, but he couldn't stifle the smile on his face. “Don’t make a joke about patriotic duty, please.”

She laughed, lifting her head to grin at him. “You take away all the fun.” 

.”Tony says that a lot.”

“Tony doesn't get to sleep with you, though.” 

She rolled off of him, sliding in next to him for a moment to draw him into one last, slow kiss before she rose from the bed. Completely proud in her nudity, she pulled out her bag of toiletries from her suitcase and headed for the bathroom door.

There she paused, glancing over her shoulder at him thoughtfully for a long moment.

“I've had sex with a lot of people, Steve. You’re the only man I've ever made love to.”

She closed the door before he could reply.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Fourth of July, also happy birthday to Steve Rogers.


End file.
